


Quit Giving Out the Kit-Kats

by compo67



Series: Chicago Verse [12]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Curtain Fic, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Halloween, M/M, POV Sam Winchester, holiday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-01
Updated: 2013-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-31 03:00:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1026478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/compo67/pseuds/compo67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In their house as part of the Chicago Verse, Sam is on candy duty while Dean recovers from his recent knee surgery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quit Giving Out the Kit-Kats

**Author's Note:**

> Chicago Verse Halloween fic! :D 
> 
> Just a little something sweet and fluffy for y'all. Happy Halloween!

Dean keeps harassing Sam from the living room while Sam waits at the doorway.

“Quit giving out the Kit-Kats,” he grumbles every fifteen minutes. “Sam, I’m starving. Where’s the pizza you ordered?”

With a sigh, Sam hopes for patience. Dean’s recently had surgery on his left knee, and at fifty-one years old, has been relegated to couch rest for six weeks. It didn’t seem so terrible to either of them since Chicago winter had set in—complete with rain and frost—but Sam had forgotten about Halloween. At first, he thought he’d put up some pumpkins, do an hour or two of candy duty, and then retire in the living room with Dean and a movie. Halloween really isn’t their thing, even after their break from hunting and spending years as civvies, but their neighborhood makes it worth it. Every year he enjoys seeing the neighborhood kids grow up.

He would have more fun with it this year, but he’s fighting a cold and Dean’s whining isn’t helping. Sniffling, he replies that he hung up with the pizza place ten minutes ago.

A tiny Spiderman, accompanied by an equally tiny Merida, knock on the door. Knees creaking and joints popping, Sam gets up from his seat and hands out the mix of chocolate and lollipops he picked up from the store hours before.

“Thank you mister,” Spiderman says, tilting up to look at Sam. “Happy Halloween.”

“You’re welcome,” Sam replies with a smile. “You two have a good night.” Before he sits back down he waves at their mother, who is waiting by the sidewalk. It’s started to drizzle out, and it’s getting colder, so Sam figures he’s got another twenty minutes of candy duty. He watches a few families across the street and can’t help but smile when he sees a toddler in an Indiana Jones costume, totally happy despite the rain. The brief glimpse into someone else’s life makes a few things in his past worth it.

A box of tissues is tossed into his lap.

“Dean! You shouldn’t be up!” Sam snaps, looking over his shoulder. “The pizza will be here soon.”

His brother is leaning on a crutch, remote in one hand, slightly pouting. “Get away from the door Sam.”

“I’m just handing out candy, salt line is down and everything.” They may be retired but old habits die hard. “Seriously Dean, you shouldn’t be putting weight on your knee yet. If I have to take you to the hospital tonight I’m leaving you there permanently.”

“You’re welcome,” Dean mutters and begins to carefully move towards the living room.

“Thanks.” Sam blows his nose just in time to greet a large group of trick or treaters. He decides that sharing Dean’s couch a little earlier isn’t a bad idea so he hands out a handful to each kid. Before he shuts the door, he waves to them.

Easing down onto the couch and propping up his feet on the coffee table, Sam sighs. He gives in and hands the bowl to Dean, something he always swears not to do but ends up doing anyway. In a minute, dozens of little wrappers are discarded and flung at Sam’s face.

He’s about to punch Dean in the shoulder when an arm is slung around him.

A Kit-Kat is shoved between Sam’s lips.

“Happy Halloween Sammy.”

“Thanks Dean.”

“I dressed you up as Robin once. Think you were three.” Rough fingers with a careful touch tug on Sam’s left ear. “Couldn’t keep you from chewing on my cape.”

Sam won’t mention how good it feels to have Dean casually, distractedly play with his hair while the zombie movie plays on in front of them. He won’t mention how he thinks he’ll probably call off from work tomorrow, his throat is getting scratchy and he’s more congested by the minute. And when he settles into Dean’s side, steals an Almond Joy, splits it in half and feeds the bigger piece to Dean, he remains quiet.

“Trick or treat,” Dean whispers, his chin on the top of Sam’s head.

“Hmm. Treat.”

“Blow me later.”

Recuperation or not, Sam feels completely valid when he hits Dean in the face with a pillow. 


End file.
